The Haunting and Horrific Mummy Museum of Guanajuato

The surprisingly popular Museo de las Momias is filled with naturally preserved corpses, dried out and twisted into gruesome positions. Their wide-open mouths are enough to make visitors scream. 

There’s a museum filled with naturally preserved corpses in Guanajuato, Mexico — and it’s a popular attraction with locals and warped tourists alike.

While researching a day trip from San Miguel de Allende, Duke said, “There’s a mummy museum in Guanajuato—”

“Say no more!” I interrupted him. “I’m sold.”

It’s just the kind of perverse spectacle that made us name our site The Not So Innocents Abroad. 

“This woman had wakened under the earth. She had torn, shrieked, clubbed at the box-lid with fists, died of suffocation, in this attitude, hands flung over her gaping face, horror-eyed, hair wild.”

— Ray Bradbury, “The Next in Line”

And we’re not the only ones into this type of gruesome excursion. The parking lot was full, and there was a line to get into the museum. All told, we had to wait about 20 minutes to purchase tickets. 

“The mummies of Guanajuato bring the biggest economic income to the municipality after property tax,” Mexican anthropologist Juan Manuel Argüelles San Millán told National Geographic. “Their importance is hard to overstate.”

Meet the oldest mummy at the museum: Dr. Remigio Leroy, buried in 1860 and exhumed five years later.

Many of the mummies still have their hair and teeth — and dried sacs where their eyes have oozed out.

Our tour guide spoke in Spanish — most of the visitors were locals as opposed to fellow gringos. Our Spanish is nowhere near good enough to follow what he was saying, but we trailed after the group, snapping photo after photo. 

The mummies are pale and desiccated, twisted into horrific poses, their arms crossed over their chest or fingers bent at unnatural angles. The dried skin has flaked off in many areas, looking like a wasp nest, though on a few the skin is pulled taut and smooth. On some, the eyes look as if they’ve oozed out of their sockets to become dried sacs. Quite a few still have their teeth; you’ll see tongues protruding from others. Some still wear dusty clothes, pulled from their graves before the fabric had time to rot away. 

Many still have their hair, wild manes or neat braids. We passed a mummy that had a large patch of gray pubes, which made us groan and then giggle. 

This mummy still sports a patch of gray pubes.

One somber section is devoted to babies, eerie infants dressed in gowns and caps, looking like dreadful dolls. 

But what you notice most are the mouths. They’re open in what appears to be an eternal scream. They’re screaming, as if they knew what their ignominious fate would be. 

So, how did the mummies end up here?

If you’re buried in Guanajuato and no one pays your burial tax…you could end up a mummy at the museum!

Exhumed and Exploited 

Unlike a cemetery in the United States, where you buy a plot of land for perpetuity, the gravesites in the silver mining town of Guanajuato had a burial tax. If a family didn’t pay up, the corpse had to vacate the premises to make way for a paying customer. 

The bodies at Santa Paula cemetery were moved to an underground ossuary — what happens to be the current site of the Museum of the Mummies. 

Check out those cheekbones! This is considered to be the best-preserved mummy at the museum.

Those commissioned with the gruesome task of removing the corpses were shocked to discover that many were well preserved. Turns out that the deep crypts, devoid of humidity and oxygen, provided the ideal conditions to prevent decomposition. The bodies had dried out naturally, transforming into what are now known as the mummies of Guanajuato. 

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

Gravediggers lined up the mummies and charged the public a few pesos to see them. Early viewers would break bits off of the mummies or nabbed name tags as souvenirs. 

The macabre practice continued for 90 years, until 1958. Ten years later, the city opened el Museo de las Momias de Guanajuato, and 59 of the original 111 mummies are on display. 

And so the tradition continues — though the museum now charges 85 pesos (less than $5). We sprang for the additional section, which turned out to be a kitschy collection of spooky spectacles in the vein of Ripley’s Believe It or Not!

One of the dioramas in the bonus room at the end.

Thought to be Asian, this mummy is referred to as the China Girl — and is the only one with its original coffin, despite being one of the oldest specimens in the collection.

Mummies Dearest 

The first of the mummies dates back to 1865 and is that of a French doctor, Remigio Leroy. As an immigrant, he had no one to keep up his burial tax. 

One unfortunate soul, Ignacia Aguilar, had a medical condition that greatly slowed her heart, and her family rushed to bury her (not unusual in warm climates). Ignacia was eventually unearthed, her mummy lying face-down — and the ghastly truth was discovered: Due to injuries on her forehead and the position of her arms, she’s believed to have been buried alive. 

The corpse on the left is believed to have been buried alive, while the guy in the middle drowned.

And, alongside its mother, there’s a 24-week-old fetus, believed to be the youngest mummy in existence. 

Analysis of the mummy showed that this woman was 40 years old and malnourished when she died while pregnant. Her fetus is thought to be that of the youngest mummy in existence.

Death on Display

The museum may be popular, but it also comes with its share of controversy. Aside from the questionable ethics of showcasing the forgotten dead in a freakshow of sorts, some scientists say that storing the mummies upright, as many are displayed, hampers preservation. 

But this display of death is just part of the culture. 

“For Mexicans, this isn’t bizarre or weird,” local guide Dante Rodriguez Zavala told Nat Geo. “We have a comfort level with death — we take food to our dead loved ones on Day of the Dead and invite mariachis into the cemetery.”

One of the scariest of the mummies

Pretending to be a mummy at the end

But for some, like writer Ray Bradbury, the experience is haunting. Bradbury, traumatized by his viewing of the mummies in 1945, wrote a fantastic, creepy short story about them called “The Next in Line.” It’s in his collection The October Country and will stick with you long after you finish reading it. The tale is the perfect companion piece to a visit to the Museum of the Mummies. 

Much better than the schlocky horror flick Las Momias de Guanajuato (The Mummies of Guanajuato). This movie from 1972 is part of the luchador genre, starring three wrestlers from the time — Blue Demon, Mil Máscaras and Santo, the Silver Masked Man — saving the town from a resurrected sorcerer (and fellow wrestler) named Satan and his army of the undead. –Wally

Museum of the Mummies of Guanajuato

Explanada del Panteón Municipal
Centro
36000 Guanajuato
Guanajuato
Mexico

The Textile Museum of Oaxaca Weaves Its Magic

El Museo Textil de Oaxaca is a free attraction — and well worth a quick visit. 

The Textile Museum of Oaxaca showcases contemporary art exhibits, such as Ephemerus by Cecilia Salcedo, which was in the upstairs gallery when we visited.

I know plenty of people go gaga for textiles. And while I can certainly admire the craftsmanship of a woven cloth (and have a great fondness for quilts), textile-centric excursions wouldn’t be on our short list. 

If the Museo Textil de Oaxaca wasn’t literally in the same building as our hotel (the delightful Casa Antonieta), I don’t know that Duke and I would have popped in. 

 And that would have been a mistake. 

“The museum is housed in a mansion with a green stone façade build by a Spanish merchant.

How did he earn his fortune? He exported cochineal, the red dye made from bugs that was more precious than gold — which provides a nice connection to the Museo Textil. ”

Even if textiles aren’t your bag, baby, you should stop by for a brief visit — even just to admire the design of the interior courtyard. A philanthropic venture of the Fundación Alfredo Harp Helú, a private foundation, the museum is open to the public and free to enter. So you really have no excuse not to devote time here. 

The museum is small, with a few galleries on the first floor and one upstairs.

A Material World

When we visited, we began on the ground floor, which is set up very much like an art museum — the textiles on the wall could very well be paintings. There are only a few small rooms, and a somewhat haunting nature soundtrack played as we wandered the galleries. 

One of the ground-floor galleries

The striking courtyard of the Museo Textil de Oaxaca

Upstairs, there was only one large room open to the public, and the exhibit when we were there felt a bit interactive. 

Ephemerus by Cecilia Salcedo was born of craving nature during pandemic lockdowns. I can remember Duke and I taking walks along Inner Lake Shore Drive in Chicago just to get out of the house when COVID-19 silenced Chicago. The lack of cars and other ambient noise meant we could hear birdsong like never before, and we noticed the buds appearing on the trees we passed every day. In a strange way, it was beautiful, as if the world had forced us to literally pause, listen and observe.

Salcedo used branches to hang her cloth prints of leaves — a project born of craving nature during the pandemic lockdown.

The trees seen through the balcony doors pair nicely with the nature re-creations in the exhibit.

The artist used a technique called ecoprinting, making stamps of leaves on bolts of fabric that are draped from the ceiling like banners. They pair nicely with the actual branches hung above and below, strewn about in piles of dirt and leaves — as well as the leaves in the trees that can be seen through the open balcony doors. I found the space to be very evocative, like entering a magical forest (if you have a good imagination, as I do). 

“All fleeting stages, even this pandemic, afford us the opportunity to renew our perspective of the world that surrounds us and, above all else, the role that we play in it,” writes Hector M. Meneses Lozano, the museum director, about the exhibit.

Salcedo used a technique called ecoprinting to leave the impressions of leaves on cloth.

The museum views itself, in part, as a place to showcase contemporary art, and that mission was obvious in this second-floor gallery. 

The textile museum is part of a massive building known as the Ex Convento de San Pablo, sharing the space with a boutique hotel and a cultural center.

History of the Ex Convento de San Pablo 

The Oaxaca Textile Museum is housed in the same massive edifice as not only Casa Antonieta but the striking Centro Cultural de San Pablo as well. 

The site originally housed the Convento de Santo Domingo Soriano. Established in the year 1529, it was the second Dominican foundation in the Americas. Later, the monastery was dedicated to Saint Paul, which explains why it’s now referred to as the Ex Convento de San Pablo. 

It seems little if any of the original structure still exists, though. At the beginning of the 17th century, a series of earthquakes caused massive damage, forcing the church to rent and sell off parts of the monastery. 

The first structure built on the site of the monastery was a small one-story adobe home — though it was torn down by Spanish merchant Ángel de Antelo y Bermúdez. Don Ángel built a two-story Oaxacan Baroque mansion, with a green stone façade, and the property became known as Casa Antelo. 

How did Don Ángel earn his fortune? He exported cochineal, the red dye made from bugs that was more precious than gold — which provides a nice connection to the textile museum. 

Wally and Duke were obsessed with the pattern of the courtyard wall — a sort of stone textile itself.

The structure was enlarged, and eventually gut-rehabbed to house the cultural center, hotel and textile museum, which opened in 2008. 

There’s a small shop on the first floor, which has some nice items but smelled a bit mildewy when we visited. –Wally

---

The deets 

Admission: Free

Hours: Open every day from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. 

Tours: Free one-hour tours are offered at 5 p.m. (though these were discontinued during COVID)

Museo Textil de Oaxaca

Miguel Hidalgo 917
Centro Histórico
68000 Oaxaca de Juárez
Oaxaca
México

---

The Marvelous (and Controversial) Murals at the Palacio de Bellas Artes in Mexico City

Make the rounds at the Palace of Fine Arts in CDMX’s Centro to see works from some of Mexico’s most famous muralists, including Diego Rivera, José Clemente Orozco and David Alfaro Siqueiros.

View fullsize

This provocative mural was being renovated when we visited the Palacio de Bellas Artes and could only be viewed from across the way.

On our first trip to Mexico City, we only admired the Palacio de Bellas Artes from afar — namely, from the Sears across the street, which affords the best view of that gorgeous Art Nouveau dome, glowing in an ombre that starts with bright saffron and fades to pale yellow. 

Instead, we followed a scavenger hunt of sorts, rambling around Centro in a search for its most Instagrammable spots. 

The Palacio de Bellas Artes is more than just a pretty façade — there’s a gallery of famous murals inside.

This time, we planned to actually enter the Palacio de Bellas Artes, though we had no idea what lay within. Duke and I were pleasantly surprised to discover that the top floor was devoted to a gallery of murals from some of Mexico’s most famous artists. 

The inside of the Palace of Fine Arts in Mexico City isn’t too shabby, either. Be sure to get tickets for the mural museum when you visit.

We purchased our tickets on the ground floor, then climbed the grand staircases up two flights. The murals form a ring around the space, with the center open, letting you look down at the palace’s lobby or admire the murals from afar. When we visited, one of the murals was being restored and we could only see it from across the way.

View fullsize

Sit and admire Diego Rivera’s kooky mural — which Rockefeller rejected.

El Hombre en el Cruce de Caminos o El Hombre Controlador del Universo

Translation: Man at the Crossroads, or Man, Controller of the Universe

Date: Date: 1934

Artist: Diego Rivera

View fullsize

It’s a battle between capitalism, as represented by figures including Charles Darwin (the fellow with a white beard surrounded by animals)…

…and Communism, depicted on the righthand side, with Leon Trotsky, Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels all making appearances.

Fascinating fact: The original Man at the Crossroads was commissioned for the Rockefeller Center in New York City. But when Nelson Rockefeller got wind that it included a depiction of Vladimir Lenin and a Soviet May Day parade, he ordered it destroyed — before it was even completed.

---

View fullsize

González Camarena’s mural moves from slavery to spiritual liberation.

Liberación o La Humanidad Se Libera de la Miseria

Translation: Liberation, or Humanity Frees Itself From Misery

Date: 1963

Artist: Jorge González Camarena

Fascinating facts: This is a re-creation of a no-longer-existing mural that had been painted on the Edificio Guardiola, where the Bank of Mexico placed its vaults. The first part shows a man tied up in a coffin and a nude tattooed woman to protest agrarian policies after the Mexican Revolution and slavery. The last section to the far right depicts a mestizo woman (someone of indigenous and European blood) — a radiant symbol of spiritual liberation.

---

Siqueiros’ mural presents revisionist history, where an Aztec ruler isn’t conquered by the conquistadors.

Apoteosis de Cuauhtémoc o Cuauhtémoc Redivivo and Tormento de Cuauhtémoc
(Díptico Monumento a Cuauhtémoc)

Translation: Apotheosis of Cuauhtémoc, or Cuauhtémoc Resurrected and Torment of Cuauhtémoc (Monumental Diptych to Cuauhtémoc)

Date: 1951

Artist: David Alfaro Siqueiros

View fullsize

The Aztec ruler Cuauhtémoc had his feet burned until he caved and told the Spanish where to find a treasure trove.

Fascinating facts: One panel shows a revisionist history, what the artist wishes had happened — that the Aztec emperor Cuauhtémoc had defeated the Spanish conquistadors. The other shows what really happened: The ruler was tortured by the Spanish, who burned his feet until he revealed the location of Montezuma’s treasure.

---

Note the personifications of the wind blowing in this Art Deco mural fragment.

Alegoría del Viento o El Ángel de la Paz o La Aviación

Translation: Allegory of the Wind, or The Angel of Peace, or Aviation 

Date: 1928

Artist: Roberto Montenegro

Fascinating facts: This is the only portion of the original Art Deco work at the former Colegio Máximo de San Pedro y San Pablo that survived the humidity. It’s the oldest mural in the collection.  

---

View fullsize

Man vs. machinery battle it out in Orozco’s bizarre and disturbing mural.

Katharsis o La Eterna Lucha de la Humanidad por un Mundo Mejor

Translation: Catharsis, or Humanity’s Eternal Struggle for a Better World

Date: 1935

Artist: José Clemente Orozco

A detail of La Chata, the infamous pug-nosed prostitute in Orozco’s mural

Fascinating facts: Orozco, like his contemporary Diego, was no stranger to controversy, as evidenced by this horrific vision of dystopia. The naked woman, wearing a massive pearl necklace, grins outward and opens her legs to a piece of machinery. She’s known as La Chata (Pug Nose) and has the dubious honor of being considered one of the most repulsive images in art. 

---

Rivera’s mural panels poked fun at White tourists and played upon circus themes.

México Folclórico y Turístico and Dictadura
(Políptico Carnaval de la Vida Mexicana)

Translation: Folkloric and Touristic Mexico and Dictatorship (Carnival of Mexican Life Polyptych)

Date: 1936

Artist: Diego Rivera

There’s a lot to find offensive in these murals, from an officer depicted as a pig to a flag that sports a swastika.

Fascinating facts: Alberto Pani commissioned the series for his Hotel Reforma. But Diego, ever the shit-stirrer, inserted political motifs and unflattering representations of tourists. Pani “touched up” the offensive bits; Diego sued and won, and was allowed to restore his work. But the hotelier put the work into storage, where it remained hidden away until it was sold to the government in 1963 and installed at Bellas Artes. 

Murals are, by their nature, public works of art. If you’re in CDMX’s Centro neighborhood, take a quick spin through the murals of the Palacio de Bellas Artes — and see if you can spot all the controversial sections. –Wally

Palacio de Bellas Artes
Avenida Juárez s/n
Centro
Cuauhtémoc
06050 Ciudad de México
Mexico

48 Hours in Adelaide, Australia: A Local’s Travel Guide

A two-day itinerary for an amazing city that’s been overlooked in favor of Melbourne and Sydney for too long. With aboriginal art and great wine regions, it’s no wonder publications are heaping accolades on Adelaide.

It’s time visitors to Australia put Adelaide on their itinerary.

Tucked down in the middle of the south coast of Australia, Adelaide has played second (or is it third?) fiddle to Melbourne and Sydney for years. Tourists flocked to both of those cities — and while they are amazing places to visit if you’re in Australia, those who don’t visit Adelaide are certainly missing out.

In 2014, Adelaide finally started getting the recognition it deserved — it was named as one of the top cities to visit in the world by Lonely Planet. Then, in 2017, the whole state was crowned as one of the best regions to visit — again by Lonely Planet. And in 2021, Adelaide was declared Australia’s most livable city and the third most livable city in the world, according to the Economist Intelligence Unit’s Global Liveability Index. 

“In 2014, Adelaide finally started getting the recognition it deserved.

It was named as one of the top cities to visit by Lonely Planet. Then, in 2017, the state was crowned as one of the best regions to visit — again by Lonely Planet.

And in 2021, Adelaide was declared the third most livable city in the world, according to the Economist. ”

As you can imagine, these accolades have led to an influx of people from all over the world. And they have made us locals want to ensure that visitors have the best time.

If you’re thinking about spending a weekend in Adelaide, make the most of what this gorgeous part of Australia has to offer. Keep reading for an essential guide to Adelaide: what to eat, where to stay and of course, what to do. 

See what all the fuss is about. We’ll help you pack a lot into even a two-day visit to Adelaide.

Before You Go: A Bit About Adelaide 

I hope you’re prepared for a busy 48 hours — and I mean busy in a good way, because there is so much to see, do, taste and experience.

But before we dive into the itinerary, let’s talk about some facts about Adelaide.

Adelaide is the capital of South Australia, the state that’s in the middle of the bottom half of the country. The city is located right on the coast, toward the center of the state, and is actually quite small in population, with around 1.5 million people calling it home.

The city has a strong indigenous history, with the area also known as Kaurna land, named for the traditional habitants of the area. Many areas in Adelaide honor their indigenous roots, with traditional names still being used.

In terms of weather, Adelaide does have seasons. In summer it can get quite hot, but unlike other tropical areas, like Queensland, the heat isn’t sticky and uncomfortable. In winter, it can get pretty cold — so, depending on what you’re looking for in a trip, make sure you take the seasons into consideration. If you’re looking for warm, pleasant weather, February to April is a great time of year to visit.

The city itself is convenient — not overly large and divided into a grid, and because of this you’ll be able to easily navigate getting around. There is also great public transport, with trams taking you from the CBD (central business district) down to Glenelg, a popular beach suburb of Adelaide.

But where to stay? If you’re looking for fun nightlife and shopping, staying in the CBD might be a great option, with plenty of hotels and Airbnbs around. If you’re looking for something with a beach vibe, then Glenelg is the area for you. And if you’re looking to spoil yourself, try the Sequoia Lodge, a luxury accommodation in Adelaide Hills.

Pamper yourself with a stay at the Sequoia Lodge in Adelaide Hills.

So, now that you know a little bit about the city and where to stay, it’s time to get down to the nitty gritty.

Two Days in Adelaide

Day 1: Adelaide City

Like I said before, getting around the Adelaide CBD is pretty easy. The walkable CBD and convenient transport mean it’s a breeze to explore.

To get your first day started, I highly recommend that you take a walk along the River Torrens. You can enjoy the beautiful views and do a little people-watching — something I love to do in any place I visit. 

You can follow the river all the way down to East Terrace, which is where you will find a “bridge of love” — where couples have hung a padlock to celebrate their commitment. Not only is this a very romantic place to visit, it’s also where you’re going to turn off from the river and make your way toward North Terrace.

The Migration Museum is housed in what was once the Destitute Asylum, a place that offered support to immigrants.

To get to North Terrace, you can take Kintore Avenue, site of the Migration Museum. This is where you can learn about more than two centuries of migration to Australia — and it’s free to visit. Even if you only have a half hour to duck in, it’s well worth it.

The gorgeous façade of the South Australian Museum

After the Migration Museum, if you hi want to keep up with your cultural exploration of Adelaide, then on your way to North Terrace, visit the South Australian Museum, the State Library of South Australia and the Art Gallery of South Australia. At the museum, be sure to check out the Aboriginal Australian exhibition. And the library has the incredible Mortlock Wing, which wouldn’t look out of place in Harry Potter. 

Is this Hogwarts? Nope, it’s the famed Mortlock Wing of the State Library of South Australia.

The Art Gallery of South Australia

Once you’ve wrapped up at the museums and galleries, head to the Botanic Gardens of South Australia. A free guided tour is offered every day at 10:30 a.m. Here you’ll get to see a variety of  indigenous plants, shrubs and flowers. 

The majestic Palm House at the botanic gardens

By this point, you’ve probably worked up an appetite. Good news: Across the road from the botanic gardens, you’ll find plenty of restaurants, including an awesome Thai restaurant called Golden Boy. There are more restaurant options en route to Rundle Street, which is where Rundle Mall is, the famous shopping strip of Adelaide. 

On Grenfell Street, the next block over from Rundle, you’ll find the incredible Tandanya National Aboriginal Cultural Institute. You can buy gorgeous art prints and souvenirs in the gallery shop.

After the cultural center, make your way down to Central Market — it’s a bit of a walk — so you may as well take the scenic route along King William Street. That way you’ll get to see some of Adelaide’s beautiful old buildings like the General Post Office and the Town Hall.

Central Market is your next destination and is the Southern Hemisphere’s largest covered market. This is where you will find the most delicious fresh produce — and if you’re going to stop anywhere, make sure it’s the Smelly Cheese shop!

Cheeses Christ! This is Wally’s dream come true! The Smelly Cheese Company at Central Market

Now, this is where you need to decide whether you want to stay in the city for the nightlife or if you want to spend some time down at the beach. While the CBD has plenty to see and do and great restaurants to eat at, I recommend taking the tram to Glenelg to enjoy watching the day turn into night.

It takes around 30 minutes to get to Glenelg by tram, and it’s worth it — plus, you get to see some of the prettiest areas of Adelaide along the way. 

Hop on the tram — the seaside suburb of Glenelg is just half an hour away!

If it’s a warm day, you can enjoy a swim, or if you want to stay dry, why not grab a drink at the Glenelg Surf Life Saving Club and watch the sunset? Glenelg also has some great restaurants, with amazing seafood options and views of the water.

If you’re staying in the city, you can take the tram back or grab a taxi. Have a nightcap at any of the awesome bars in the city. Now, while there is always plenty on, I recommend trying to get in relatively early, because tomorrow is going to be another busy day!

The Barossa Valley is one of three wine regions outside of Adelaide.

Day 2: The Wine Regions

You cannot possibly visit this region without tasting the local wine. The Adelaide CBD is actually close to three of the best wine regions in Australia: the Barossa Valley, McLaren Vale and Adelaide Hills.

Before you get to the wine tasting, you need to line your stomach with a delicious breakfast. If you’re in the CBD, a great brunch place is Crack Kitchen. 

Once you’ve eaten, it’s time to get to tasting. It’s honestly hard to choose between all of the wine regions, though the Barossa is likely to be the one you’ve heard of — it’s where Rockford, Wolf Blass and Jacob’s Creek all come from. It’s northeast of the city.

McLaren Vale is south of the city and offers incredible views of the water, and the Adelaide Hills wine region is about 25 minutes east of the CBD.

The d’Arenberg Cube in McLaren Vale sounds like a trip. It offers a tasting room, the Alternate Realities Museum, a Salvador Dalí exhibition and other sensory delights.

Visiting the wine regions does take a bit of planning because unfortunately, there isn’t really any public transport out there. But there are many different options: day tours, hop-on-and-off bus tours or renting a car. With that last option, you do get the flexibility of being able to spend more time in certain areas — though it also means you may not get to enjoy the tastings to their full capacity. 

If I had to choose one region, I would probably go with the Adelaide Hills. Not only do you have the benefit of enjoying Adelaide’s oldest wine region and the gorgeous vineyards, but there is so much more to do as well. 

Who can resist the opportunity to see koala bears up close? Head to the Cleland Wildlife Park to spot these cuties, along with kangaroos, wallabies, dingoes and other native animals.

In the Hills, the Cleland Wildlife Park offers a chance to meet a koala up close.

A 45-minute drive away, the Big Rocking Horse — which is exactly what it sounds like — needs to be seen to be believed.

And the picturesque traditional European village of Hahndorf is home to vineyards, bakeries, galleries, boutique shops and distilleries.

The Old Mill in the traditional European village of Hahndorf

Have dinner at the award-winning Hardy’s Verandah Restaurant on the Mount Lofty Estate on the same grounds as Sequoia Lodge.

Even if you don’t stop in the Hills, it’s a beautiful place to take a scenic drive through.

As you can see, Adelaide is a stunning city that offers its visitors so much to see and do. Of course I recommend spending as long as you can, but it’s easy to get a great sampling of all it has to offer in a mere 48 hours. –Sophie Armstrong

Animal Symbolism in Pre-Columbian Pottery at the Museo Nacional de Antropología

The meanings behind monkeys, jaguars, ducks, bats, dogs and other animals in Mesoamerican myths as depicted in pre-Columbian artifacts at the National Museum of Anthropology in Mexico City.

A lot of the exhibits at the National Museum of Anthropology in CDMX depict animals — each of which held symbolic meaning for the ancient peoples of Mexico.

Something that’s always fascinated me about ancient cultures are the similarities in beliefs with other civilizations around the world. Despite being oceans apart, many shared highly developed civilizations and a deep reverence for the natural world. 

We saw this in action during our last visit to Mexico City, when we finally made it to the Museo Nacional de Antropología. The scale and scope of the galleries at the museum is dizzying. Wally and I don’t like to overdo it, so we spent half a day just wandering through the first floor. One of the highlights for me was the large number and variety of Mesoamerican animal-shaped effigy vessels on display. Like other ancient societies, the pre-Columbian peoples believed that certain animals embodied a spiritual energy in which sacred beings manifested themselves. 

“Conquistadors developed such an appetite for Xoloitzcuintli Mexican hairless dogs that they nearly ate them into extinction. ”

These ritual objects were not used in everyday life; they were often placed in tombs as burial goods. Animals played a key role at all levels of society and symbolically linked the three cosmic realms of the universe: the heavens, earth and underworld.

Aztec cosmology posited that time is cyclical — and that we’re in the Fifth Sun, the final cycle of the world.

Here Comes the (Fifth) Sun

According to the Aztec legend of the Fifth Sun, time is cyclical. Four suns, or eras, have passed, created by a different deity and successively destroyed. Each cycle included inhabitants who died or transformed into various creatures, including monkeys, turkeys, dogs and fish. Our present world happens to be the Fifth Sun. 

Brightly colored feathers were used in religious ceremonies.

The pre-Columbian people used animals for a variety of purposes. Parrots and macaws, for example, provided a source of food as well as prized blue-green plumage used to adorn headdresses. However, animals also held great symbolic significance. They served as cultural and cosmic metaphors based on their habitat and natural features. 

Ducks were particularly holy to Mesoamericans, as they moved between three realms: water, the sky and land.

Just Ducky

Birds symbolized the celestial realm, the sun and moon in particular, and were considered messengers between the natural and spiritual worlds. 

Ducks were particularly holy, perhaps because they ticked all the boxes: They can fly, walk on land and dive underwater, possessing the ability to travel freely between these different spheres. 

Ducks and related birds were also associated with the wind god Ehécatl (pronounced “Eh-heh-ka-tul”), one of the avatars of Quetzacoatl, the great plumed serpent. The deity was frequently portrayed with a duckbill-like appendage on his face, which he used to summon the winds. 

The Maya considered bodies of water to be pathways to the Underworld. Ducks and other waterfowl were ritualistically sacrificed, eaten and used to ward off demons.

This little guy represents a coatimundi, which figures in a Mayan myth that involved a decapitated head in the Underworld.

Coati Encounters of the First Kind

The coatimundi, or coati, are members of the raccoon family. They have distinct mask-like markings on their faces, resembling a combination of kinkajou, anteater, raccoon and bear cub. 

In the Popol Vuh, the sacred text of the Maya, a bat rips off the head of Hunahpu, one of the Hero Twins, and takes it to the ball court of Xibalbá (the Underworld) to be used in place of a rubber ball. A coati fashions a fake head from a calabash squash and places it on the shoulders of the headless hero. Hanapu’s brother Xbalanque places Hanapu’s head back on his shoulders, and the brothers succeed in defeating the Lords of Xibalbá.

Monkeys represented the good (luck and joy) and the bad (immorality).

Monkeys: Sacred Simians 

Spider and howler monkeys are the two most common species native to the tropical lowlands of Mexico. Playful and social in nature, these nimble primates live in the high forest canopy and are mankind’s closest living relative. They were symbols of good fortune and joy, as well as pleasure and immorality — the latter of which was punishable by death. Monkeys were domesticated and kept as pets by both Zapotec and Aztec nobility and weren’t used for food or sacrifice. 

The “leftovers” of the Second Sun cycle of the universe were turned into jabbering monkeys.

Ehecatl, the Aztec god of the wind, was associated with monkeys.

Monkeys were also associated with the Aztec wind god Ehécatl. According to the legend of the Fifth Sun, the disobedient survivors of the Second Sun, whose cataclysmic end included hurricanes and floods, were transformed into monkeys by Ehécatl. Deprived of the ability to speak, they were condemned to emit meaningless noises for the rest of their existence. 

A person’s spirit would hold onto a Xoloitzcuintli dog’s tail to be guided through the Underworld.

Dogs Truly Are Man’s Best Friend

Before the Chihuahua became the most popular dog breed from Mexico, there was the hairless Xoloitzcuintli (pronounced “Show-low-eats-queent-lee”). This breed got its name from Xolotl, the god of lightning and death, and itzcuintli, dog. To the ancient Aztec and Maya, the canine was created by Xolotl to guard the living and guide the souls of the dead through the perils of Mictlán, the Underworld. Deceased souls held onto the dogs’ tails as they led their owners through the afterlife. They were also bred as a source of food — in fact, the conquistadors developed such an appetite for them that they nearly ate them into extinction. 

The most common depictions of Xoloitzcuintles take the form of small ceramic vessels known as Colima dogs for the modern state of Mexico where they are commonly found. More than a few of these red clay objects are depicted with chubby bodies — this may be an indication that they were fattened up to be eaten.

Frida Khalo and Diego Rivera owned a brood of Xolos, and Wally and I saw a few sunning themselves at el Museo Dolores Olmedo, which houses a large collection of works by this famous duo.

Grasshoppers were associated with agriculture and fertility — but could also mean destruction.

The Grasshopper: the Insect That Sings for Its Supper

The name of Chapultepec Park, where the Museo Nacional de Antropología is located, comes from Náhuatl for “Hill of the Grasshopper.” This hill rises from the center of the park, was a sacred place for the Aztec and is where Chapultepec Castle stands. 

Grasshoppers were associated with agriculture and fertility and were associated with the period following the annual rainfall, which brought an abundance of the insects. 

In addition to their symbolic importance, the Aztec snacked on chapulines, cooking them on clay surfaces with spices. 

To the Mexica, they represented the duality of abundance vs. destruction: Drought triggers the solitary grasshopper to become social, changing color from green to yellow and black. Under such conditions, they move in swarms, devouring crops and vegetation.

Bats were paired with the Underworld, which was accessible via the caves they live in.

Bats Out of Hell

Bats are nocturnal creatures that travel the sky by night and hide in caves by day, which Mesoamericans believed were portals to the Underworld. 

The stuck-out tongue on this bat statue hinted at the creature’s blood-sucking nature and connected it to the practice of human sacrifice.

The Zapotec venerated the god Camazotz, who had the head of a bat and was associated with night, death and sacrifice. Most likely due to the sanguinary diet of the vampire bat, native to most regions of Mexico, where it feeds on the blood of mammals, the creature became associated with rites of bloodletting and human sacrifice practiced to honor the gods and secure bountiful harvests. 

A common symbol in ancient Mesoamerica, the jaguar was linked to power and protection from evil.

Jaguars Hit the Spot(s)

The jaguar was one of the most important sacred symbols of power, ferocity and protection from evil. According to Mexica lore, a jaguar and an eagle both sacrificed themselves to bring light to the world, and in doing so became gods. 

Jaguars were believed to have the ability to travel between the worlds.

The Maya connected the jaguar’s spots with heavenly lights.

The jaguar is closely associated with the “night sun” (the sun during its nightly trip through the Underworld) and darkness as well. As such, the big cat was thought to have the ability to move between the worlds of the living and the dead. The Maya venerated the feline, seeing heavenly lights in its spots. –Duke

---

RELATED: Death Cults of Ancient Mexico

---

Death Cults of Ancient Mexico

The post-death rituals of the pre-Hispanic peoples of Mexico involved human sacrifices, dog sacrifices — lots of sacrifices.

The pre-Hispanic people of Mexico often left a token in a corpse’s mouth to help the spirit on its journey through the underworld.

Our current death rituals are typically one of two extremes: We either pump a corpse full of chemicals in an effort to preserve it — or we burn it to a crisp. 

The pre-Hispanic peoples of Mexico went to their own extremes when it came to the cult of death, often involving sacrifice of some sort. 

Known as the Lady of the Dead, Mictecacihuatl was the Aztec goddess of death, who ruled the underworld.

Here are some interesting facts about their death rites, which we learned while exploring the amazing Museo Nacional de Anthropología in Mexico City — currently my favorite museum in the world. 

A xoloitzcuintli Mexican hairless dog was sacrificed when someone died in the belief that it would serve as a spirit guide.

The death rites of pre-Hispanic peoples involved an elaborate spiritual journey that began with the killing of a dog.

When someone died in pre-Hispanic Mexico, a 40-day death ritual kicked off with the sacrifice of a xoloitzcuintli dog. The corpse was dressed in fine clothes, if their family could afford it. Otherwise, simple mats would do. A jade bead (or blue-painted pebble) was placed in the body’s mouth.

The person’s soul began a journey through the darkness of the nine planes beneath the earth. The skin was shed and dangers faced, including savage beasts that could only be appeased by being given the bead or pebble, which represented the person’s heart. 

As the spirit traversed this sinister landscape, family members would help them on their way by abstaining from sex and certain foods.

Eventually, the soul reached the Chignahuapan, the river at the border of the ninth plane. Waiting patiently, and probably wagging its tail, was the little doggie, who would lead the way across the water, into Mictlan, the dark and cold place of no return. 

A reconstruction of the Pyramid of the Feathered Serpent at the Museo Nacional de Anthropología in Mexico City. The original was the site of mass human sacrifices.

Excavations at a major temple in Teotihuacán revealed human sacrifices.

In Teotihuacán, within the confines of its religious and political centerpiece, the Pyramid of the Feathered Serpent (Pirámide de la Serpiente Enplumada), evidence of mass human sacrifice has been unearthed. Built from 150 to 200 BCE, the temple houses the remains of numerous sacrificial victims dressed as warriors. The symmetrical pattern of the bodies reveals that they were connected to the culture’s cosmology and calendar.

This disc from the Temple of the Sun in Teotihuacán represents the death of the sun.

It was an honor to be sacrificed to the god of war and darkness.

Tezcatlipoca (“the Obsidian Mirror”) helped create the universe and, as the Mexica god of war and darkness, held dominion over those activities that often took place at night, including theft and adultery. Not surprisingly, the color black was associated with him. Tezcatlipoca was also the god of masculinity and procreation. 

Every year, an unmarried man under the age of 20 was chosen to represent him as a living god. He was dressed up like the deity and lived large — until, that is, the fifth month of the year, when he was sacrificed.

Coatilcue, the goddess of the earth, had a head made of two serpents and liked to wear a necklace of severed human hands and hearts.

People were shot to death with arrows in a fertility rite.

Ancient peoples did many unusual things to ensure the fertility of their crops, and the residents of Mexico were no different. Tlazolteotl, the Aztec goddess of purification, lust and vice, liked people to be shot full of arrows in the fields. The sacrificial person’s blood fell to the earth to ensure fertilization and to thank the goddess for her bounty. –Wally

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

The Male Nude in Art

A virtual tour of the Masculin/Masculin exhibit at the Musée d’Orsay in Paris, including works by Egon Schiele, Kehinde Wiley, Gustave Caillebotte and Pierre et Giles.

Le Berger Paris (The Shepherd Paris) by Jean-Baptiste Frédéric Desmarais, 1787

The perfection of the male figure was first seen through the lens of the Ancient Greeks. Their idealized depictions celebrated the male body as a reflection of heroic and athletic beauty. The few female sculptures that existed during this period were clothed and chaste in comparison. 

At some point the male nude fell out of favor, and the female nude became the central subject of objectification. Historically speaking, the typical viewer of artwork was male, and this display of the female physique for pleasure turned the female nude into an accepted object of male desire.

Imagine if you will then, how excited Wally and I were in Paris in the fall of 2013. We had decided to visit the Musée d’Orsay, and saw that its featured exhibit was Masculin/Masculin: L’homme nu dans l’art de 1800 à nos jours (The Male Nude in Art From 1800 to Today). The exhibition ran from September 24, 2013 to  January 2, 2014. 

We arrived with Wally’s parents, Dave and Shirley, in tow. When we mentioned that we were excited to see a special exhibit all about the male nude, the Shirl replied, “I don’t need to see that.” Her loss! Though we can’t say we weren’t a bit relieved; seeing galleries full of nude men with your parents could get a little awkward. 

Mercure (Mercury) by Pierre et Gilles, 2001

Nude Male Art Galleries Galore!

Inside, a larger-than-life banner featured a stylized work of French art photography duo Pierre et Gilles titled Mercure (Mercury), the heroic winged messenger and trickster deity of Roman mythology. 

Please note that, as you can imagine from the title, this post includes images of male nudity. 

Faune endormi (Sleeping Faun), a copy of the Barberini Faun, by Edmé Bouchardon, 1726

The Ideal Man

The exhibition is arranged thematically and began by introducing us to “L’Idéal classique, the Classic Ideal.” This concept has existed since the Ancient Greeks chiseled away at marble to depict perfectly sculpted male bodies (pun intended). In my humble opinion, though, these were rarely erotic — sure, they had rockin’ bods, but the statues’ minuscule, flaccid genitalia unappealingly evoke wilted zucchini blossoms.

One such exception was the life-size copy of the Barberini Faun by Edmé Bouchardon on loan from the Louvre. I can clearly remember seeing an image of the Barberini Faun projected onto a screen in my college art history class in its erotic, spread-eagled glory. The figure is a satyr, or faun — usually depicted as a creature half-man, half-goat but in this case referencing a follower of Dyionysus, the god of pleasure and wine. 

Seeing the sculpture in person felt voyeuristic — the viewer is allowed to gaze at something forbidden: a man sleeping, or perhaps passed out from all that wine. The nude form is lounging back, with his legs splayed, giving everyone a view of the goods. 

Académie d’homme dit Patrocle (Academy of a Man, Called Patroclus) by Jacques-Louis David, 1780

One of the first works of art we viewed was Académie d’homme dit Patrocle (Academy of a Man, Called Patroclus) by Jacques-Louis David, from 1780. 

Patroclus was a character from Homer’s Iliad who died fighting the Trojans. The painting was produced by David during his stay in Italy as a Prix de Rome laureate. Turned away from the viewer, the figure's accentuated muscles reminded me a bit of Michelangelo's studies for the Libyan Sibyl, Phemonoe, the finished result of which adorns the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in Rome. 

Horst in the Pose of an Ancient Greek Horseman by George Hoyningen-Huene, 1932

Gods and Heroes

The second theme, “Le Nu héroïque, the Heroic Nude,” also dates back to the Ancient Greeks. It was assumed that a hero had little need for armor, and that the strength of his body was the measure of his worth.

David by Antonin Mercié, 1892

Fléau! (Scourge!) by Henri-Camille Danger, 1901

Pushing Weights With Two Arms -2 by Eugène Fredrik Jansson, 1913

A noteworthy inclusion in this gallery was Pushing Weights with Two Arms -2 by Eugène Fredrik Jansson, a Swedish artist. He began his career painting atmospheric landscapes and cityscapes rendered in shades of blue, but in later years turned his focus to painting male nudes. Jansson became a swimmer and winter bather to combat the chronic health issues he’d suffered since childhood. He often visited Stockholm’s Flottans Badhus, the Navy Bathhouse, where he met sailors who served as the models for his paintings. 

Pushing Weights was a series of paintings by Jansson. In this particular one, a naked athlete stands near a doorway, his gaze fixed on a man, possibly Knut Nyman, Jansson’s “close companion,” lifting a barbell above his head. 

Based upon the homoerotic subtext, it’s possible that Jansson was a closeted homosexual and that the works he produced during this period reveal the strong attraction he felt for his subjects. 

Job by Léon Bonnat, 1880

The Naked Truth

The third theme focused on “Nuda veritas, sans complaisance, The Naked Truth Without Compromise.” The idea of the authentic nude abandons the conventions of classical perfection to portray the body in realistic accuracy. 

L’Age d’airain (The Age of Bronze) by Auguste Rodin, 1877

Homme au bain (Man at His Bath) by Gustave Caillebotte, 1884

What I like about Homme au bain (Man at His Bath) by Gustave Caillebotte is that it depicts a very private moment. A man is drying himself with a towel after a bath. His back is turned away from the viewer; he is neither posing for the painting nor has any intention of being seen.

David and Eli by Lucien Freud, 2004

The reclining nude male figure with the dad bod depicted in British painter Lucian Freud’s portrait David and Eli is his friend and studio assistant David Dawson. The dog is Eli, one of the artist's beloved whippets. Freud’s late nudes are noted for their uncompromising scrutiny of the human body. The artist utilized a technique known as impasto, where layers of paint and brushstrokes blend and converge to reveal the materiality of the flesh. The oil paint applied to the figure of David and the bedsheet beneath him was Cremnitz white, a type of white lead paint that Freud favored for its luminosity. 

Jeune homme nu assis au bord de la mer (Young Male Nude Seated Beside the Sea) by Hippolyte Flandrin, 1836

Vitalism: Naughty by Nature 

“Im Natur, In Nature,” the fourth theme is all about men en plein air, as they say in France. As the 19th century world became increasingly industrialized, academies across Europe favored realistic subjects, and people embraced vitalism, an anti-mechanical return to nature. This movement encouraged male nakedness during outdoor activities, including bathing, as a means to rejuvenate the spirit and increase virility. 

The Fisherman With a Net by Frédéric Bazille, 1868

There’s an underlying eroticism and intimacy to The Fisherman With a Net by Frédéric Bazille. Whether unintentionally homoerotic or not, the subject in the foreground of the painting is an athletic young man prepared to cast a net into a pond. He’s clearly positioned to show off his “assets” and looks every bit like a modern-day hipster — all that’s missing is a pair of skinny jeans and a PBR. Another man in a state of undress can be seen in the background. 

Mort pour la patrie (Dying for the Fatherland) by Jean-Jules-Antoine Lecomte du Nouÿ, 1892

This Mortal Coil

We continued wandering the galleries until we came to the one titled “Dans la douleur, In Pain,” which focused on the fragile balance of life and death. Man is not immortal; these works of art were a grim reminder of the shortness of life and the frailties of the mind and body. 

Kneeling Nude With Raised Hands (Self-Portrait) by Egon Schiele, 1910

Egon Schiele is famous for his raw figurative works. A protégée of Gustav Klimt, Schiele had a muse and lover named Walburga “Wally” Neuzil, who had previously modeled for Klimt. Schiele’s color palette and expressive drawings remind me of French artist Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. Where Lautrec elevated the world of underground nightlife, Schiele’s art was an exploration of the human condition, often depicting the twisted bodies and raw sexuality of his subjects. 

In Kneeling Nude With Raised Hands, Schiele offers himself up to the viewer. The angst of his contorted, angular body, jaundice-colored flesh and red-rimmed eyes certainly questioned the artistic conventions of gender, sexuality and morality of pre-war Vienna. His hands and limbs appear to be pressed firmly against an invisible surface, possibly a mirror, while the negative space outlining Schiele’s form serves as a window for his figure to float in space and time. 

L’Abîme (The Abyss) by Just Becquet, 1901

La mort d'Hippolyte (The Death of Hippolytus) by Joseph-Désiré Court, 1825

Homosexuality: The Object of Desire Laid Bare 

The final room explored the theme “L’Objet du désir, The Object of Desire,” and focused on the more contemporary subtext of homosexual desire and objectification. A notice outside stated that some viewers may find the artwork beyond too provocative or offensive — but of course Wally and I found this titillating and weren’t in the slightest bit deterred.

Der Wäger (The Wager) by Arno Breker, 1939

Upon entering the space, we were greeted by a life-size nude male bronze figure by German sculptor Arno Breker. Called Der Wäger (The Wager), the figure stands chest out, looking every bit like a vintage beefcake photo from the 1940s. His hand is placed on his hip in an unintended effeminate manner. The sculptor’s neoclassical style made him a favorite of Adolf Hitler, who felt Breker’s works embodied fascist Nazi ideology. 

Achille by Pierre et Gilles, 2004

David et Jonathan (Jean-Eves et Moussa) by Pierre et Gilles, 2005

La douche, Après la bataille (Shower, After the Battle) by Alexander Deyneka, 1942

La douche, Après la bataille (Shower, After the Battle) by Alexander Deyneka was inspired by a black and white photograph of presumably nude athletes that Soviet photographer Boris Ignatovich had presented to Deyneka. It took the painter five years to complete. The provocative work depicts a group of strapping young men taking a communal shower. The muscular back of an onlooker is seen in the foreground. For me, the painting brings back high school anxieties of showering and sharing the locker room with the wrestling team. There’s a tension between heterosexual aspirations and homoerotic desire. 

Death of Abel Study by Kehinde Wiley, 2008

Kehinde Wiley is a contemporary African American artist known for his large-scale paintings that highlight the image and status of young urban Black men in contemporary culture by placing them in scenes that are regal and European in origin. His photorealistic compositions reinterpret classical portraiture and are often combined with layered, vivid ornamental motifs. Gazing at the monumental Death of Abel Study — it measures a whopping 11 feet high by 25 feet wide — I couldn’t help but ask myself, is the man dead, being objectified, or both? 

Incidentally, Wiley was the first Black gay artist selected to paint a presidential portrait. He was commissioned in 2017 to paint a portrait of former President Barack Obama for the Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery.

The Most Beautiful Part of a Man's Body by Duane Michals, 1986

Le Sommeil d’Endymion (The Sleep of Endymion) by Anne-Louis Girodet, 1791

There really wasn’t anything too outrageous to be seen as we wandered through Masculin/Masculin, but it was refreshing to view the galleries of traditional paintings, sculptures and contemporary works that examined and objectified men for a change. –Duke

National Museum of Mexican Art: A Hidden Gem in Chicago

Remedios Varo, Frida Khalo and Diego Rivera are all part of the rich heritage of Mexican artists honored at this all-too-often-overlooked museum.

If you’re not all tied up, make a visit to the National Museum of Mexican Art in Chicago — it’s dog-gone great!

It’s one of our favorite fall activities. Every October, Duke and I make a trip to the National Museum of Mexican Art on the South Side of Chicago to see the ofrendas set up for the Day of the Dead. These altars for loved ones who have died are always colorful, touching and artistic — and, despite being tributes to the dead, they never fail to make you smile. 

An ofrenda to Diego Rivera, one of the most famous Mexican artists of all time

Plus, it’s an excuse to wander the Pilsen neighborhood to see its street murals and grab some tacos and tamales. Pilsen is known as a Mexican neighborhood, though the artists who once called it home got priced out and vacated to Logan Square (and have most likely been priced out again and moved on to the new up-and-coming enclave). 

When you visit the museum, be sure to take a walk through the colorful neighborhood of Pilsen and go mural-hunting.

We were unable to see the ofrendas this year because of that pesky pandemic, so we reached out to the museum to tell us a bit more about one of the most impressive cultural centers in the city and to share their favorite artists (the founder seems particularly fond of the Surrealists).

The gift shop at the museum is filled with great Mexican handicrafts.

When the museum reopens, be sure to visit. It’s a small space, so you could easily see it all in one visit. And the gift shop is an exhibition itself, filled with Mexican handicrafts, from brightly painted fantastic beasts to comical skeletons. If that’s not enough to entice you, admission to the National Museum of Mexican Art is always free.

Here’s a Q&A with the museum’s founder, Carlos Tortolero. –Wally 

Duke loves the National Museum of Mexican Art thiiiiiiiis much!

Wally in front of a cool exhibit with knitted fruit

How did the museum come about?

Founder Carlos Tortolero, a former high school teacher who’s now president of the museum, invited four of his fellow teachers and his sister, also a teacher, to form a nonprofit to create a museum in 1982.

CHema Skandal’s take on lotería cards depicts Donald Trump as “the Evil One.” After launching his political career by calling Mexicans rapists and drug dealers, we agree with that moniker.

What is its mission?

To showcase the richness of Mexican art from both sides of the border from ancient times to the present.

Laura Molina’s Amor Alien from 2004 is part of the museum’s permanent collection.

Tell us about Mexican art.

Mexican art is an amazing cultural tradition. From ancient times to the present, the manifestations of Mexican art have earned worldwide recognition.

Who are some of your favorite artists?

Artists who are deceased that I admire are:

• Saturnino Herrán

Saturnino Herrán, The Offering, 1913

• Remedios Varo

Remedios Varo, Simpatía (La Rabia del Gato), 1955

• José Celmente Orozco

José Celmente Orozco, The Trench, 1926

• Diego Rivera

Diego Rivera, detail from Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in Alameda Park, 1948

---

READ MORE

Diego’s Amazing Museum in Mexico City

Dolores Almedo’s Home, the Largest Private Collection of Diego’s Works

---

• David Alfaro Siqueiros

David Alfaro Siqueiros, La Marcha de la Humanidad, 1966

• María Izquierdo

María Izquierdo, Viernes de Dolores, 1945

• Frida Kahlo

Frida Kahlo, The Two Fridas, 1939

---

READ MORE

9 Fascinating Facts About Frida Kahlo

A Visit to La Casa Azul, Frida’s House

Coyoacán, Frida’s Boho Neighborhood

---

• Salvador Dali

• Rene Magritte

Living artists: 

• Patssi Valdez

Patssi Valdez, The Enchanted Garden, 2005

• John Valadez

John Valadez, Pool Party, 1987

• Marcos Raya

Marcos Raya, Girl With Prosthesis, 2010

• Nahum Zenil

Nahum Zenil, Con Todo Respecto, 1983

Murals have long been an important part of Mexican culture.

What’s special about the Pilsen neighborhood?

Pilsen has historically been a port of entry for immigrants from Europe and now from Mexico. There’s a dynamism of activism that has always made Pilsen stand out from other communities. Pilsen also has excellent restaurants and bakeries based on Mexican cuisine.

Skeletons are a popular motif in Mexican art — especially around Día de los Muertos.

What else is the museum used for?

The museum hosts numerous events during the year, from health workshops dealing with health issues like HIV, cancer and lupus, community fundraisers, immigration presentations, city-wide initiatives and, of course, presentations of authors, musical groups and theater.

Popocatépetl and Iztaccíhuatl by Jesus Helguera welcomes visitors to the permanent collection gallery at the National Mexican Museum of Art.

7 Reasons to Visit the French Island of Corsica

From the towns of Ajaccio and Calvi to beaches and mountains, there’s no shortage of things to do in Corsica, whether you want culture or outdoor adventure.

The French isle of Corsica has a culture influenced by both France and Italy.

A paradise in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea — there’s no better way to describe Corsica. One of the 18 administrative regions of France, Corsica lies southeast of the French mainland, west of the Italian Peninsula and immediately north of the Italian island of Sardinia. 

The beautiful island is known far and wide for its dramatic mountain ranges, which cover two-thirds of it, and the pristine waters that will surely take your breath away. Aside from its magnificent landscape, the Collectivité Territoriale de Corse, as it’s officially known, boasts an incredibly rich history, showcased by the various ancient buildings that pepper the city, the winding cobbled streets, the flavorful cuisine, and the colorful art and music scenes. Here are seven of the best reasons why you should visit the French island of Corsica.

“Corsica boasts a rich history, ancient buildings, winding cobbled streets, flavorful cuisine, and colorful art and music scenes. ”

The weather in Corsica is gorgeous year-round.

1. The weather

Nothing beats a summer spent on Corsica — an island where you can enjoy hot, dry weather by the beach. Due to its location, this paradise enjoys a Mediterranean climate that has an average temperature of 27ºC (81ºF) inland and year-round sunshine that’s a welcome getaway for those who live in countries where a cold, harsh climate is the norm. 

For those of you who want to avoid crowds during the high season, September and October would be the best time to visit the island since the pleasant weather only drops to the mid to low 20s Celsius (high 60s to mid 70s Fahrenheit).

One of the best beaches on the island is Plage de Saleccia — you just might have to share your spot with a wild cow! Be careful: Don’t try to take a selfie with them. A woman was gored by those horns a few years back.

2. The beaches

From wide bays that lap upon smooth rocks to remote sandy beaches only accessible by boat, you will never run out of stunning spots to go to in Corsica. If you are after a serene and quiet trip, you can go to some of the undeveloped coastlines, such as Plage de Saleccia and Lotu Beach. 

If you are traveling with kids and want to enjoy the seaside with the magnificent Corsica land formations as the backdrop, try Roccapina and Palombaggia.

The terrain on Corsica allows for lots of adventure activities, including canyoneering (which we hadn’t heard of before!).

3. The outdoor activities

The perfect mix of land formations and bodies of water in Corsica provides tourists with ample opportunity to partake in a wide array of outdoor activities. For those thrill-seeking tourists out there, activities include parasailing, canyoneering, river rafting, 4x4 off-road tours and rock climbing. There are also plenty of activities for those who are a bit less extreme, such as horseback riding, fishing, canoeing, cycling and kayaking.

The cuisine of Corsica takes cues from France and Italy. If you’re lucky, you’ll happen upon a market of fresh-baked goods like this one.

4. The cuisine

If you are a foodie with a love for all things Italian and French, then you would definitely enjoy the delectable dishes of Corsica. Thanks to its location, the island’s cuisine takes inspiration from both Italy and France. This then gave birth to traditional Corsican meals that are usually hearty, made of fresh seafood, local meats and locally produced dairy products like brocciu (ewe’s milk).

One of the most famous Corsican dishes is civet de sanglier, a wild boar and vegetable stew made with red wine.

Some of the dishes that will surely take your Corsican vacation to the next level are civet de sanglier, a hearty wild boar stew made with onions, carrots, fennel and red wine, and agneau corse, lamb slow roasted with whole garlic cloves, fresh rosemary and potatoes.

Pay a visit to the Musée Fesch, itself a work of art.

5. The arts

On top of the awesome mountain ranges and impressive beaches, Corsica is also home to magnificent art galleries and august historical establishments. Two museums you wouldn’t want to miss are Musée Fesch in Ajaccio and Musée d’Archéologie d’Aleria in Aleria.

The Musée d’Archéologie d’Aleria is housed in the historic Fort de Matra.

While the Musée Fesch is a 19th-century palace that houses one of the finest Napoleonic collections in all of France, the Musée d’Archéologie is situated in the Fort of Matra, which was constructed by the Genoese in the 14th century and houses the various artifacts discovered at the site.

Before Napoleon became emperor of France (and liked to tuck his hand into his shirt), he was a newborn babe on the island of Corsica.

6. The historical sites

After a fulfilling art trip, you can go on a historical tour of Corsica. Maison Bonaparte was the ancestral home of the Bonaparte family from 1682 to 1923. Here you can see lavish family rooms, galleries and drawing rooms as well as the bedroom of Madame Mère, where Napoléon was born. 

Visit the Maison Bonaparte to see the bedroom where Napoleon was born.

Tour the Calvi Citadel, which offers views of the port.

Visible from the beaches, the Calvi Citadel reveals the deep influences of the Genoese rule in Corsica through the different bastions that were once home to the Genoese governor and are now used by the legendary Foreign Legion.

Corsica offers scenic vistas, from rustic villages to rugged mountains.

7. The flora and fauna

Corsica is more than just an island that can be eye-candy for many tourists around the world: It is also home to some of the world’s rarest animals and plants.

Keep an eye out for the endangered (and adorably named) mouflon.

You might stumble upon a herd of mountain goats on a hike through the hills.

The best way to go on a nature trip in Corsica is by visiting the Parc Naturel Régional de Corse. First opened in 1972, the park will give you the chance to see some of the most endangered animals on the planet, such as the hoofed mammals known as mouflons and Corsican red deer.

If you can’t visit Corsica in person, you can always explore it from the comfort of your home, thanks to stunning drone photography.

A Virtual Tour of Corsica

Given the travel restrictions from the COVID-19 pandemic, a lot of people might find it hard to get to Corsica in the coming months. Fortunately, there are many ways to get a taste of Corsica without physically going there. For instance, you can listen to some of the best musicians from Corsica through a Spotify playlist curated by National Geographic. The playlist features songs by the vocal groups A Filetta and Voce Vetu.

Corsica, France has much to offer, whether you’re a boater, outdoor enthusiast or culture lover.

You can also count on drone technology, which has made it possible for virtually anyone to see magnificent views of the world’s best travel destinations from the comforts of their home. Through drone cameras and unmanned aerial vehicles, you can see sweeping takes of beautiful vistas and can explore places no human has ever been able to visit. Many such videos have been shot of Corsica’s one-of-a-kind landscape, giving you a taste of what to expect when you do visit:

Tour de Corse en drone (4K) !

The astonishing island of Corsica is only one of the many majestic places France has to offer. To make your French trip count, read about the different beautiful destinations. The country has perfect spots for couples, history junkies, nature lovers and all kinds of travelers. –Shannon Nichol

Anahuacalli Museum: Diego Rivera’s Temple-Like Treasure Trove

El Museo Anahuacalli is unlike any other museum we’ve visited. Explore Rivera’s collection of pre-Hispanic artifacts after a visit to La Casa Azul.

If you’ve seen Frida’s Casa Azul, the Anahuacalli Museum is included in the ticket. Don’t miss it!

My first introduction to Diego Rivera, one of Mexico’s most famous artists, was a seemingly ubiquitous, mass-produced print of Rivera’s painting El Vendedor de Alcatraces (The Calla Lily Vendor). This image can be seen hanging on the wall of many Mexican restaurants in Anytown, USA. 

Wally peeks behind a giant agave plant in the plaza in front of the museum.

The subject of the artwork is a peasant woman, head bowed, squatting and overwhelmed by a basket filled with an immense bunch of white calla lilies. Rivera was known for his murals with a message and many featured the great social inequalities of the working class and the indigenous peoples of his country. His larger-than-life paintings were commissioned by the Mexican government, Henry Ford, the Rockefellers and the San Francisco Stock Exchange building, among many others. 

“If the light seems gauzy it’s because the panels of the thin vertical windows aren’t made from glass but alabaster, creating an ethereal air of mystery. ”

Frida’s nickname for Diego was Toad-Frog — and with his bulging eyes and belly, it’s not hard to imagine why.

Perhaps what’s more interesting is that his passionate, colorfully attired and unibrowed wife, the eccentric Mexican painter Frida Kahlo is now better known than her erstwhile husband. Her birthplace and childhood home, La Casa Azul (the Blue House), was purchased by and shared with Rivera, who paid off the mortgage and financial debt left by Frida’s father Guillermo — undoubtedly accrued by Frida’s chronic health issues caused by a near-fatal street car accident she suffered when she was 18 years old. 

The first floor of the museum is filled with Mexican folk art.

Diego’s Dream Museum

If you’re visiting Kahlo’s home, be sure to hold on to your ticket, as it also includes admission to Rivera’s equally intriguing and less visited Museo Anahuacalli. The museum is located on the southern end of Coyoacán, about a 30-minute Uber ride from La Conchita Plaza, where Wally and I departed from after spending the afternoon exploring the area. 

The museum’s name is derived from Cemanahuac, the name used by the Aztecs to refer to their world. It’s Nahuatl, the language of the Aztecs, for “the Place Surrounded by Water” a concept that paid homage to the swampy pre-Hispanic landscape of México. 

Diego and Frida purchased the parcel of land in the 1930s on the rocky and then underdeveloped lava deposit of El Pedregal colonia, or neighborhood. While working on a mural in America, Rivera was inspired by the Industrial Revolution, and envisioned a space where he and Kahlo could visit and contemplate their collection of pre-Hispanic artifacts. He spent every cent he could scrape together on acquiring these pieces, amassing over 50,000 in his lifetime. One of the stories told about his obsession involves his second wife, Guadalupe Marín, who ground up one of his prized figurines in a fit of anger and served it to him in a bowl of soup. 

Rivera obsessively collected local artifacts.

Some of Rivera’s artifacts might have been acquired on the black market — maybe even this one, which Wally thinks looks like someone giving birth.

Rumor has it that Rivera acquired more than a few of his artifacts on the black market. At the time, there weren’t any laws protecting the provenance of pre-Columbian antiquities, and for this reason, the market boomed amongst nationals and foreigners alike. However Rivera obtained his prized artifacts, it’s undoubtedly an impressive collection that reveals the reverence and curiosity he felt toward the past. An inscription by Rivera at the entrance to the museum reads, “I hereby return to the people what I could rescue from the artistic heritage of their ancestors.”

Jaguars were worshipped as gods by the ancient peoples of Mexico.

Before he died in 1957 at the age of 70, Rivera bequeathed his artifacts and vision for a space to conserve and share the collection with the people of Mexico. The passion project was completed posthumously by his daughter Ruth Rivera, the financial support of his close friend and patroness Dolores Olmedo and architect Juan O’Gorman, using plans left by Rivera.  

---

Visit Dolores Olmedo’s amazing estate and see more works by Frida and Diego

---

All are welcome at the Museo Anahuacalli.

Like Entering a Temple

The imposing exterior of Anahuacalli is based upon a teocalli, a Mesoamerican temple standing on a truncated pyramid, rising dramatically from the edge of a broad, open plaza. Anahuacalli is sheathed entirely in black basalt, the igneous rock produced by the eruption of nearby Xitle, a volcano that destroyed the pre-Hispanic settlement of Cuicuilco that preceded Mexico City. 

A sign at the entry kiosk states:

En este establecimiento mercantil no se discrimina el ingreso a ninguna persona por motivos de raza, religión, orientación sexual o socioeconómica ni por ningún otro motivo.

This establishment does not discriminate against entry to any person on the basis of race, religion, sexual orientation, socioeconomic status or for any other reason.

Once inside, Wally and I immediately noticed a change in light and temperature; it was dim and cool, like the interior of a tomb. If the light seems gauzy it’s because the panels of the thin vertical windows aren’t made from glass but alabaster, creating an ethereal air of mystery. 

Gorgeous papel picado, or cut paper decorations, hang above artifacts placed in niches.

There’s a large ofrenda, an altar to Rivera.

One of our favorite displays on the ground floor was the impressive and brightly colored ofrenda, a traditional and allegorical offering dedicated to the deceased Rivera. Adorning the ofrenda are life-size papier-mâché folk art sculptures are known as alebrijes—the word these fantastical creatures were repeatedly chanting in vivid fever dream that the artisan Pedro Linares had. 

Ofrendas often have skeleton figures and food and other items the deceased enjoyed in life.

Whimsical papier-mâché folk art creatures called alebrijes came to their creator in a feverish dream.

The exuberant colors of the figures and papel picado, cut tissue paper banners, are all the more striking against the volcanic stone. 

Admire the cut tissue paper flags before venturing into the depths of the temple-like museum.

Narrow alabaster windows give the museum an otherworldly quality.

From the Underworld to the Heavens

A stairwell symbolizing the entrance to the Mayan underworld of Xibalba descends past bouquets of dried marigolds. These flowers guide spirits to their altars using their vibrant colors and pungent scent. 

Bright orange marigolds help guide the way for spirits to visit this world.

Duke looks up at the dried marigolds that fill this stairwell.

The Anahuacalli’s three levels are bisected by dramatic stone staircases leading to galleries with vitrines and niches filled with Rivera’s personal collection of more than 2,000 Zapotec, Maya, Aztec, Olmec and Toltec idols and artifacts ranging from utilitarian to religious objects. 

Rivera collected about 50,000 pre-Hispanic artifacts.

One of Rivera’s wives supposedly ground up one of his idols and served it to him in soup.

Make sure to look up at the ceilings, which showcase mosaics based on Rivera’s designs and communist inclinations. Most were inspired by the mythological creatures of the Mesoamerican canon, with a hammer and sickle thrown in for good measure. One mosaic depicts a toad — Kahlo’s nickname for Rivera was El Sapo-rana, or Toad-Frog — fitting, as he was a large, portly man with bulging eyes. Incidentally, his birthplace, Guanajuato, loosely translates to the Place of Frogs. 

Look up! Most of the ceilings have murals made from different colored rocks.

A woman gathers fruit in one ceiling mural.

Rivera wasn’t subtle about his fondness for Communism.

The light-filled second floor of the museum was originally envisioned as Rivera’s art studio and contains a number of monumental charcoal sketches and studies for several of his murals. One in particular, El Hombre en el Cruce de los Caminos (Man at the Crossroads), is a fresco originally commissioned in 1932 for the Rockefeller Center in New York, but later destroyed and unceremoniously chiseled off the wall for its unflattering portrait of Rockefeller and depiction of communism.

On the second floor, you can see studies for Rivera’s murals.

Another large-scale piece, Pesadilla de Guerra, Sueño de Paz (Nightmare of War, Dream of Peace), was a portable mural painted in 1952 for the Twenty Centuries of Mexican Art exhibition that traveled to various European cities. Its creator sold the work, which was censored by the Mexican authorities, to China. Nobody knows for certain where it is today. 

Also among Rivera’s artworks is a childhood drawing of a choo-choo train. 

Although the Anahuacalli is filled with niches showcasing Rivera’s beloved artifacts, it houses only a fraction of his collection.

Some galleries host temporary exhibits.

It’s also a space that hosts temporary exhibits and site-specific projects. While we were there in the fall of 2018, an exhibit titled Machama featured Adelia Sayeg’s sculptural ceramics. 

Dominating the second floor wall is an early rendering of Rivera’s famous Pesadilla de Guerra, Sueño de Paz mural.

The circular piece in the center of the room was filled with small ceramic pieces by Adelia Sayeg.

The museum’s interior embodies some of the same tenets as American architect Frank Lloyd Wright — specifically the concept of compression and release, with narrow stairwells and passageways opening abruptly into larger spaces. Rivera did meet with Wright in 1952 and consulted with him about the structure. 

Here comes the sun: Keep winding your way up through the museum to end up on the rooftop.

You’ll be temporarily blinded as you step out of the dark confines of the museum onto the rooftop terrace. Like Duke, you can admire the view of CDMX.

Wally takes a break from a long day exploring the neighborhood of Coyoacán.

You wind your way up, floor by floor, until you step out onto the rooftop terrace, open to the sky, boasting panoramic views of the city. The sun bathed the outlying area in golden light. It was a perfect end to an incredible day. –Duke

Wally and Duke are all smiles at this truly one-of-a-kind museum, which they can’t recommend enough.

Anahuacalli Museum

Museo 150
San Pablo Tepetlapa
Coyoacán
04620 Ciudad de México
CDMX
Mexico